MUERTO: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 2)

by Chiah Wilder

  He chuckled and placed the drinks on her tray. She smiled seductively at him and hoisted the tray up as she headed over to the tables. She does have a fine ass. Maybe Crow’s got a point. I bet she would be a lot of fun in the sack.

  “Did you finish making my order?” Jaime asked as she came up to the bar.

  “Ready in a sec.” As he prepared the drinks, he looked her over. “You look nice tonight,” he said as he admired her low-cut top.

  She blushed a deep red. “Thanks. Brandy told me to wear something more provocative so I could get bigger tips. She always beats me hands-down on the amount of tips we get when we work a shift together. I have to admit her advice is working.” She bit her lower lip.

  “I can see why. Hell, if you were my waitress, I’d give you a big tip if I saw you in that top.” He winked at her as he put the last drink on her tray.

  “Thank you,” she said demurely, her cheeks red as beets.

  He chuckled as she scampered away.

  A bit earlier, he’d texted Skull to see if he could help him out at the bar, and a wide smile spread across his face when he saw his brother walk in. With a pierced lip, eyebrows, ears, and a ton of tattoos depicting all sorts of mayhem, Skull scared the shit out of most citizens. Add the messy blond hair, his six-foot-two height, and a bulk of muscle, and people literally moved out of the way when the twenty-eight-year-old outlaw entered a room. That night was no different, as several men shooting pool stopped and moved slightly to the right when Skull walked toward the bar.

  “Glad you could help me out, brother. We’re fuckin’ slammed tonight.” Muerto moved down to the other end of the bar, giving Skull his place at the end nearest the entrance.

  “No problem. Any worthwhile chicks here tonight?” He bent down and pulled out a couple of whiskey and bourbon bottles.

  “A few. Dudes mostly hang in here.”

  “Damn, she’s a beauty. I’d love to get lost between those tits.” Skull stopped what he was doing and stared straight ahead.

  Muerto followed his line of vision and spotted Brandy leaning down real low to place a few drinks on a table where three men sat. “She’s off-limits. Works for the club.”

  “Fuck. Let me know if she ever quits.” He resumed what he was doing.

  “Hiya, Muerto.”

  He swiveled around and saw Deanna settling on a barstool. She was wearing patterned stockings, a tight, short black skirt, and a low-cut animal print top. In his opinion, her makeup was a bit overdone, but she had a nice figure that he was sure most men would find attractive. “Hey. We’re really busy tonight. I’ll look over those papers in a bit. I gotta catch up. What do you want to drink?”

  “A glass of chardonnay would be lovely. Take your time. I’m not in a hurry.”

  He poured her a glass and went back to filling the orders that kept coming in. As he worked, he felt Deanna’s eyes on him. Thankful Skull was there to help, he finished an order and walked back to Deanna. “So let me see the lease. Did you do the background check on the tenant?”

  “Tenants—they’re a couple—and I did a background on them.” She pulled out a manila folder from her large black bag, took out the lease, and handed it to him. “Here you go. It’s the standard residential lease.”

  He reviewed it. “We need to revamp the leases. Add a couple of clauses about no pets and no painting the walls without my permission. The rest of it looks good. Once you do that, I’ll sign it.” He handed it back to her. “Want another glass of wine?”

  She nodded and grasped his hand. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Slipping his hand from under hers, he tilted his chin, and then he sensed her. Amid all the noise, the crush of people, the clack of balls, he heard her throaty laugh. He turned and there she was, her long hair touching her ass, which was more delectable in dark-wash skinny jeans. Her red fitted top skimmed her body and her four-inch black pumps made her legs look impossibly long. The crystal in her nose ring caught the light and sparkled, drawing his eye. She looks fuckin’ fabulous. And she knows it.

  Looking at her as she walked by, her hips swaying, her hand tossing her hair over her shoulder, he whistled softly under his breath. When she went to one of the pool tables without even shooting him a sidelong glance, he knew she was purposely dissing him. Instead of pissing him off, excitement punched his gut. You wanna play a game, sweetheart? You’re fuckin’ on. Muerto was usually the one who ignored the chicks, acting like they didn’t exist. It surprised and challenged him that his sexy tenant wasn’t drooling over him. At least not yet.

  “I do miss you. Why don’t you want to go out with me anymore?” Deanna whined.

  For the last few minutes, he’d completely forgotten Deanna was there. He’d tuned her and everything else around him out, except for Raven, the vixen who knew how to make his cock jump and his body tense in excited anticipation of wickedly nasty things to come. Deanna’s complaining was like splinters in his ears.

  “It’s over. We’ve been through this so many fuckin’ times. I told you it was just a fling and you were good with that. Then you got all psycho on me. We had a great time. I loved it and you told me you did too. Now it’s over. You’ll make some guy who wants to settle down a wonderful girlfriend. I’m not the boyfriend type.”

  “I’m not asking you to be my boyfriend. I’d be fine with being your friend with benefits. That’s totally no strings attached, right?”

  “Hang on a second. I gotta check something out.” He walked away and came out from behind the bar, striding over to Raven, who was sipping a drink while she watched two men play a game of pool. As he stood real close to her, his nostrils filled with her alluring scent: spicy with a hint of vanilla and musk. It smelled like pure sex and wound around him, squeezing him in a good way.

  She turned, and with her head lowered she looked up at him, her lips slightly parted. His dick went crazy as he gazed at her. Fuck.

  “What do you want?” she asked, her voice slinking over him.

  He exhaled, willing his hardness to calm down. “Just making sure you’re watching the game and not playing.”

  “So I’m not allowed to play here?” Her deep laugh stroked him.

  What the hell’s the matter with me? This smart-ass woman with her not-giving-you-the-time-of-day” attitude was igniting a fire in him that was threatening to combust. “Not if you hustle.”

  She leaned in closer, her lips hovering right over his ear. “And what if I do?” Her warm breath singed his skin.

  “I don’t think you want to find that out. I can be a real sonofabitch.”

  “Now you’re just tempting me to hustle.” She placed her hand on his bicep and grasped it lightly.

  He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together as he scanned her flushed face. Her lips were begging to be kissed, and her seductive gray eyes were driving him wild. “Be careful in unleashing the beast in me, sweetheart. I don’t fuckin’ play nice. Remember that. If I see you hustling, your ass is outta here.”

  She stepped back from him, her face tight. “And I’m sure you mean that.”

  “My eyes are on you.”

  “And that’s exactly where I want them to be.”

  Before he could answer, a man in his early thirties approached her. “I’ve been noticing you since you came in. What’re you drinking?”

  “We’re fuckin’ talking here.” Muerto shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t throw a punch at the asshole who offered Raven a drink.

  The man’s face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were alone.”

  Raven turned to him and smiled sweetly. Muerto wanted to grab her and press her close to him. “I am. He’s the owner of the place and is just going over the rules for playing in here. I’d love a whiskey sour. Thank you.”

  “I’ll go to the bar and get you one.”

  He started to walk away when she gripped his arm, then looked at Muerto. “That’s his job,” she said to the guy. “Can you please bring me a whiskey sour and….” She looked
at her suitor.

  “A bourbon and seven.”

  Muerto shot daggers at the man and growled at Raven while she smiled innocently at him. He turned around and marched back to the bar, the scent of her tempting perfume on his clothes. When he approached the bar, he yelled out to Skull, “Get one of the girls to send over a whiskey sour and a bourbon and seven to the bitch with the long black hair.” Skull glanced at Raven and then back at him. “Don’t fuckin’ ask.”

  He went behind the bar and noticed Deanna was still there, glaring at him. Fuck. He walked over to her.

  “Is she your new squeeze?” she said bitterly.

  He laughed dryly. “Hardly.” He glanced back at Raven who was laughing and holding onto the guy’s arm. White heat burned in his chest. He wanted to beat the dude to a bloody pulp and fuck the vixen until she couldn’t walk. A couple of beer cans fell on the floor, and he kicked them violently before stomping on them, causing them to explode. Sticky amber liquid puddled on the floor. “Fuck!” He grabbed a large towel and threw it down, sopping up the mess.

  “What’s up with you, dude? Why don’t you take a break?” Skull said as he came over with a mop.

  Shaking his head, Muerto breathed heavily. That woman pisses me way the hell off. “I’m good.” He continued to inhale and exhale deeply.

  “Okay.” Skull mopped up the floor, smiled at Deanna, and went back to his station at the bar.

  “Are you pissed because she’s with that guy?” Deanna asked as she looked over her shoulder.

  “Leave it alone, will you? I’m fuckin’ busy right now. I don’t have time to keep you company anymore, okay? Make the corrections on the lease as I asked you to. I’ll be over sometime tomorrow to review it. Leave it with Jay.”

  “Wait a minute. That’s the tenant at your duplex, the artist. You’ve got the hots for her?” Her upper lip curled in disdain.

  With his nostrils flaring, he said evenly, “I don’t have the hots for any chick.”

  “I’m not stupid. I can see you’re attracted to her by the way you look at her.” She lifted her wine glass to her mouth.

  “So the fuck what? I always check out good-looking chicks. I’m done here. Go check out some of the guys in here tonight. You might get lucky.” Before she could answer, he walked away.

  “Is she giving you a hard time, handsome?” Brandy joked as she nodded toward Deanna. “She’s pretty pissed that you were flirting with the black-haired woman.”

  Sweeping his arm out, he blew out a long breath. “Is it a gene in women to see every fuckin’ thing that goes on and then give a shit about it?”

  “Why’re you so grumpy?” Jaime asked as she laid her tray on the counter.

  “His girlfriend is giving him a hard time,” Skull said as he placed three Coors on her tray.

  “Fuck off.” Muerto shot him a sideways look.

  “You have a girlfriend? Who is she?” Jaime turned toward the crowd.

  “The black-haired one,” Brandy said, picking up on Skull’s ribbing.

  “Although I never thought the words ‘girlfriend’ and ‘Muerto’ would be in the same sentence.” Skull guffawed.

  “Is it the one in the red top and skinny jeans?” Jaime picked up the tray.

  “It’s no one. And if it were, you’d all be the last ones I’d tell.” He threw his rag down. “Fuck this.” He started to walk away.

  Brandy went around the bar and placed her hand on his shoulder. “We were just joking. I didn’t think you’d be interested in a woman who didn’t have double-D boobs like mine.” She winked.

  “You got the tits all bikers love, darling,” Skull said. She laughed, placed the drinks he made on her tray, and headed over to the table where Raven sat. “I gotta fuck that one. It’ll be worth Steel kicking my ass.”

  Muerto chuckled. “Keep your attention on manning the bar. After we close you can go back to the club and have your pick of double-D tits—real and fake.”

  “Brandy had a point about the dark-haired chick. You usually go for bigger racks.”

  “If I were interested, which I’m not, her tits would fit just fine in my hands, and that’s the way I like them.” He glanced over at Raven, the vein in his neck twitching every time she swept her fingers over Mr. Bourbon and Seven’s forearm. She was flirting up a storm with him, but Muerto caught her sneaking peeks at him at the same time. Wiping down the bar, chatting with customers, and leaning in a little too close to the waitresses, he pretended nonchalance, but a hot fire was smoldering in him.

  When they stood up and walked to the pool table, he turned to Skull. “Take care of the bar. I gotta make sure no one hustles anyone.” He strode over to the pool table where the guy was racking up the balls. Leaning against a table, he watched her as she told Bourbon and Seven that she was a pretty good player. They played a couple of rounds which she easily won, and she begged off the next game.

  “I’ll play you,” a tall guy in his twenties said to Bourbon and Seven.

  As they racked up the balls, she jumped up on the stool, watching them. Muerto came over. “I didn’t think you’d behave, or are you just setting the fuckin’ sap up?”

  With a placid face, she brought her finger to her lips. “Shh… I’m trying to watch the game. No one should ever talk when a serious game is on.” Her eyes darted back to the two men playing pool.

  Her words were like shards of glass slicing his skin. Roughly, he gripped her arm and tugged her to him. When she winced, a feral smile curled his lips. “No one tells me what the fuck to do,” he said in a controlled tone. “And no one ever shushes me.”

  She tried to yank her arm out of his grip as she stared daggers at him. “And no one ever touches me unless I want them to. FYI, I don’t want you to.”

  Bending down, he hissed in her ear, “When you beg me to touch you, I’ll remember that.”

  Muerto dug his fingers into her skin, then shoved her arm away from him. He swaggered back to the bar, fuming. She makes me so damn mad. Why the hell do I give a shit? For the rest of the night he made a vow to ignore her, and he did a great job, almost forgetting she was in the place until the end. And when she didn’t even give Muerto a small glance as she and Bourbon and Seven walked out, arm in arm, fire ran through his veins.

  He’d never met a woman like her. Women came to him, and he decided if he wanted them or not. The silver-eyed vixen had his world out of order, and she pissed him off. But she also excited, perplexed, and challenged him. And he planned to see a whole lot more of Raven Harris.

  Sneering, he stared out at the dark street. I’m gonna fuckin’ break her.

  He had to before she did it to him.

  Chapter Seven

  The sun bored down as Raven schlepped the groceries from her car into the house. The garage door had broken the previous day, and when she’d phoned the management company to report it, Deanna was snippy and demeaning. She really couldn’t figure out what the witch’s problem was with her. Not wanting to call Muerto after their encounter at the pool hall a couple of nights before, she figured she’d try the management company again on Monday morning and hope Jay answered the phone.

  Muerto had been on her mind since Thursday night. She’d purposely given him a hard time, and he’d seemed madder than hell at her when she’d walked out with Dave. He must sorta be interested in me if he got that pissed off. Her face flushed a pinkish red when she recalled how much raw sex radiated from him whenever he came up to her. She’d had to force herself to act stoic around him when all she wanted to do was press her body close to his hard one and kiss him deeply.

  She placed the perishables in the refrigerator and closed the door. I’m thinking way too much about him. It’s Saturday night, and I should go out.

  When she came back out on her porch, she grimaced; Brent stood against the brick pillar with a stupid grin on his face. She swept away some strands of hair on her face. “What do you want? I’m busy.”

  “I was just in the neighborhood. How’ve you been?” />
  “Good. Bye.” She rushed past him and went to her trunk, took out a couple more bags, and slammed it shut. “You’re still here,” she said as she walked up the stairs to the porch.

  “Let me help you with those.” He reached out and grabbed the bags.

  She resisted. “I’ve got them. You need to go.” She placed them down.

  “I wanted to tell you that my wife and I have finally split up. It’d been shitty for a long time. I never loved her like I did you. I want to try and make things work between us now. When we were together, we were real happy, weren’t we?”

  “Until I found out what a lying, cheating piece of shit you were.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

  “My marriage was practically over when you came into my life. I just stuck around for the kids. I never cheated on you. You always had my heart. Things were so fucked up between my wife and me for a long time.”

  “A real man would’ve owned up to it. Told me he was married and let me decide if I wanted to get involved with a cheat. You played me and her. I don’t respect cowards.” Bending over, she picked up the bags.

  Brent took a few steps toward her and grasped her arm roughly. Surprised, she dropped the bags and looked up into his narrowed eyes. “Don’t fucking pretend that you didn’t love me.” His voice filled the small porch.

  “I’m not. I did love you and that’s why your betrayal was so much worse. I’m over you now, so don’t think you can come over here, sweet-talk me, and when that doesn’t work, manhandle me. I’ve moved on. Get the hell off my porch. I want you to stop contacting me. I know it’s you e-mailing me those lame-ass love sayings. I don’t want to hear from you or see you. It’s done. Over.”

  Yanking her to him, he tried to kiss her as she struggled to wriggle out of his arms. “You don’t fool me. You know you want me,” he growled as he wrapped his fist in her hair.

  “Stop it, Brent. You’re hurting me.”

  “Leave her alone. Now.” For the first time since she’d moved into the rental, Walter’s voice brought her a sense of relief.